


Sherlock: Boxes On Beds

by IBegToDreamAndDiffer



Series: Sherlock: Impact [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fights, M/M, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Suspected Alcoholism, Suspected Eating Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-25
Updated: 2012-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-30 02:39:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IBegToDreamAndDiffer/pseuds/IBegToDreamAndDiffer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft Holmes and Gregory Lestrade have been dating a few months and Greg wants to move forward. Mycroft isn't sure how to tell Greg he's a virgin. Ensue awkward moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock: Boxes On Beds

**Author's Note:**

> Original characters are owned by Arthur Conan Doyle, these versions are owned by Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. I just get to play.

_‘I had a great time, Mycroft, really,’ Greg said and pulled back, grinning to see Mycroft flushed. ‘I’ll wait as long as I have to.’_

_‘Believe me, I will not make you wait too long,’ Mycroft said. Greg pecked him quickly on the lips. ‘Have a good evening, Gregory.’_

_‘You too, Mycroft,’ Greg smiled. ‘Go save the world.’_

_Mycroft chuckled and stepped into his black car gracefully. It pulled away and Greg watched it go, smiling._

_The date had been... excellent. And the kissing? Greg was still reeling from that. He smiled. It was true, what he’d said; he’d wait as long as it took. Because there was no way he wasn’t going to try and wrangle Mycroft Holmes into a long-term relationship._

_He lifted his fingers to his lips and grinned at the memory._

_-o-_

_Mycroft groaned and fell into the car heavily._

_‘I apologise, sir,’ A said._

_‘It’s not your fault,’ Mycroft sighed. He badly wanted to tell the PM to go screw himself and run back to Greg. But it couldn’t be and he knew it._

_‘Was it at least a good date, sir?’ A asked._

_Mycroft raised his fingers to his lips. He smiled at the memory._

 

\--

 

Greg Lestrade was floating on a cloud because almost one week ago he had had _the_ best date in his entire life. It had been short, yes, way too short, but it was still very good. His date had been charming, funny, handsome, entertaining... he’d been everything Greg was looking for in a partner. That it happened to be a Holmes was completely surprising but still good.

It had been a week but Greg was still buzzing. He hadn’t heard from Mycroft but that was okay; the man was very busy. Greg himself had barely had time to think about the date let alone have another one.

He puffed on a cigarette and hummed to himself as he watched the traffic go by. He really couldn’t be brought down lately. Even three homicides and one annoying consulting detective couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

‘Lestrade,’ Sally Donovan said and lit her smoke.

‘Morning.’

‘Why are you so chipper?’ Sally asked. ‘Are you finally getting laid? Is it that bloke? Mycrot or whatever?’

Greg cleared his throat and said, ‘First of all it’s _Mycroft._ And secondly I don’t just jump into bed with people on the first date.’

‘Uh huh,’ Sally said. ‘So why so happy?’

‘We had a good date,’ Greg admitted, ‘a great date... fantastic, really.’

‘When?’

‘Last week.’

‘Last week? Are you serious?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Why are you still happy?’

Greg smiled. ‘I _did_ say it was fantastic, right?’

She chuckled. ‘Just do him already.’ She paused and looked Greg over. ‘I still can’t believe you’re gay. Not sure I believe you, actually.’

‘Why not?’

‘Might just be a ruse to stop any girls asking you out.’

It was Greg’s turn to laugh. ‘Sally, you realise how completely stupid that sounds?’

‘This coming from a man who lets the Freak walk around and trash our crime scenes.’

‘He doesn’t trash them,’ Greg said. ‘He helps.’

She just tutted. ‘God forgive whatever family made that little mess.’

Greg felt a knot tighten in his stomach at that and Sally looked at him.

‘You alright?’

‘Just because Sherlock’s different doesn’t mean his family is...’ Okay, bad example, because Mycroft Holmes was just as different as his brother. ‘I mean... look, Sherlock’s weird, yeah, and his family probably is too but... he’s a good person, really, underneath it all.’

Sally snorted. ‘Doubt it. He’s probably a government project.’

Greg snorted at that. He could imagine Mycroft and Sherlock in some secret government facility being tested... well, Mycroft would probably be doing the testing.

‘I’m just saying he’s messed up; anyone related to him has to be too.’

Greg glared at her and ground out his cigarette. ‘You have no idea what you’re talking about.’

She blinked in surprise. ‘I... what?’

‘Just drop it, Sally.’

‘But–’

‘Drop it!’ Greg huffed and stormed away. He did _not_ need to stand around listening to Sally Donovan bad mouth his boyfriend’s family. He paused at that, almost forgetting to stab the elevator button. Was... was Mycroft Holmes his boyfriend? No, definitely not. One date didn’t necessitate a relationship.

Greg swallowed. He wanted to be Mycroft’s boyfriend but the man hadn’t called back. Which was fine, right? ’Cause it was only a week and Mycroft was busy and Greg was busy and...

He pulled out his mobile and texted quickly, sending it before he could change his mind.

 

_Hi there, I had fun last week. Do you want another date? Just let me know._

_Greg Lestrade_

 

Oh God... he hoped that didn’t sound needy. Was it needy? It had been a week after all... well, four days...

Okay, definitely needy. Greg groaned and thumped the Nokia against his forehead.

 

-oOo-

 

Mycroft Holmes stared at the message. He was sitting in his wood-panelled office (the real one, not the fake one John Watson had seen) and he was supposed to be working. _Supposed to be_ being the key words there. Because lately he hadn’t been working very well. Mainly because of a certain Detective Inspector that refused to leave his head...

The date had been fantastic, the best one of Mycroft’s life. And not just because he’d finally gone out with a man but because it was _Greg_ and Greg was wonderful and sweet and charming and unbelievably sexy and the kissing–

Mycroft swallowed and tried to pull his thoughts away from the kissing parts. It was amazing what his body would do to him just at the memory of Greg’s lips on his.

He tried, and failed, to forget about Gregory Lestrade’s lips... why couldn’t he at least think about them in more appropriate settings? No, it had to be in the middle of meetings or during hostage negotiations. And he’d want to blush and touch his lips and the thoughts and the memory of the smell and the softness and the _taste_ –

Mycroft sighed and leaned back, pressing his hands together beneath his chin. A trait he shared with his brother that he couldn’t quite seem to shake. He just didn’t know what to do. He’d badly wanted to text or call Gregory after their first date, pretty much five minutes after he’d got into the car. But Mycroft knew that would make him look desperate... even if he _was_ desperate.

And now Greg had texted him, finally, after four days of Mycroft wondering if the date had been as good for the DI as it had been for him.

Now what did he do? Did he text back straight away and say he would very much want to go on another date? Or did he wait an hour? Or a day? Or two?

Dating was hard and Mycroft suddenly hated the fact that he hadn’t done it more often. At least if he’d dated as much as Gregory, or even Sherlock, he’d know what to do. At least his brother had had sex, he knew how to treat a man. Mycroft had no idea... it was one of the few things he _wasn’t_ an expert on.

He sighed again and continued to stare at his BlackBerry. Stupid idiotic piece of technology. Stupid, stupid piece of fucking shit!

‘Sir?’

Mycroft jumped and blinked. He looked up to see A standing before him. Now where the hell had she come from?

‘Erm...’ he cleared his throat, ‘... yes?’

She smiled hesitantly. ‘Did you not hear me come in?’ He opened his mouth to lie but of course A saw straight through him. That’s why he had hired her. ‘Sir, just text him back and say you’d like to have another date. You are definitely free tomorrow at five.’

Mycroft snorted. ‘That’s what you said the first time. And the second time, the third, the fourth–’

‘Yes, sir, I am aware of my shortcomings,’ A tutted without really being upset. ‘But you are definitely free. And I will do all in my power to make sure DI Lestrade is free. Now stop fretting and call him, sir, or I will.’

Mycroft smiled and nodded. ‘Yes ma’am.’

She grinned and said, ‘Meeting in five minutes, sir.’

He nodded again and A left him to it. Mycroft swallowed his fear and anxiety and picked up his phone.

 

-oOo-

 

Greg jumped when his phone began ringing. _Damn it_. An hour since he’d texted Mycroft and he’d turned into a jumping idiot. _Great, Lestrade, really great,_ he thought to himself as he slipped his Nokia from his pocket.

His heart skipped a beat and he swallowed. _Mycroft Holmes._

After a minute he realised he should probably answer and said a croaky, ‘Lestrade.’

Damn it. One bloody date and a text and he turned into a blubbering fool. He’d been so smooth during the date, too. He’d been himself. And now? A fucking teenager with a crush.

‘ _Good morning, Gregory,_ ’ Mycroft said in that posh and sexy voice of his. ‘ _How are you?_ ’

‘Good...’ Greg managed before clearing his throat. ‘Better now that you’ve called.’

He heard Mycroft chuckle, not a polite or happy one but... a tense one. Nervous. Shit, was Mycroft as nervous as Greg? For some reason that made him feel better.

‘So, Mycroft,’ he said and was glad to hear his voice was back to normal. ‘How are you?’

‘ _Better for having called you,_ ’ Mycroft admitted. ‘ _I’ve been staring at your text for an hour wondering what to do. I’m not quite familiar with dating rituals but thankfully my assistant helped me realise I shouldn’t ignore a text from you because I’m nervous._ ’

Greg froze. Nervous? So he was right... Mycroft was nervous about... about calling him. Bloody hell.

‘ _Gregory?_ ’

‘Sorry,’ Greg laughed. ‘I’m just... yeah, I’m nervous too.’

‘ _Really?_ ’

‘Mycroft, have you seen how sexy and intimidating you are?’ Oh God, did he just say that? He nearly smacked his head again.

Mycroft chuckled again. ‘ _I know I am intimidating, not so sure about the sexy part, Gregory. I’m sure you take that title._ ’

Greg found himself grinning. ‘Well, I guess we can meet halfway, Mycroft. We’re both sexy.’

Mycroft cleared his throat nervously and Greg smiled.

‘So, what did you call me for?’ he asked softly and twirled his pen in his fingers. He found that just hearing Mycroft’s voice was soothing and... well, making him a little heated. Which really wasn’t a bad thing, right?

‘ _I was wondering if you are... free... tomorrow at five._ ’

‘Oh,’ Greg said. ‘So soon?’

‘ _If you don’t want to I understand,_ ’ Mycroft said hurriedly. ‘ _I completely understand, Gregory, I’m not familiar, as I said, with dating rituals and if this is too soon–_ ’

‘Mycroft, shut up.’ The elder Holmes did so immediately. ‘Tomorrow sounds great. Are you sure you’re free?’

‘ _My assistant assures me that I am. Oh, and she also says you are too._ ’

‘Really?’

‘ _That is what A said and she has never been wrong._ ’

‘Right,’ Greg grinned, his stomach squirming at the thought of seeing Mycroft again. ‘Yeah, I’m free, then... I guess.’

‘ _Good,_ ’ Mycroft said a little breathlessly and Greg smiled. ‘ _I will pick you up at five from Scotland Yard. Is that acceptable?_ ’

Greg chuckled. ‘Yes, that’s acceptable, Mycroft.’

There was a pause. ‘ _Why do I feel that you are mocking me_?’

‘Because I am,’ Greg teased.

‘ _Ah, I see. Well, I’ll get you back for that._ ’

‘Really?’

‘ _Really. Do not doubt me, Detective Inspector._ ’

Greg chuckled. ‘I don’t, Mycroft.’

There was a moment of silence, the two just listening to each other breathe. Finally Mycroft cleared his throat and said, ‘ _As much as I regret it, I have to go, Gregory._ ’

‘Yeah, I know. British government and all that.’

Mycroft snorted. ‘ _Hardly. Boring paperwork and very boring meetings._ ’

‘Yeah, I’m sure,’ Greg laughed.

He could imagine Mycroft smiling. ‘ _Until five o’clock tomorrow, Gregory._ ’

‘I better see you then,’ Greg said.

‘ _You will. Goodbye, Gregory._ ’

‘Bye Mycroft.’ He hung up and grinned to himself as he picked up his pen to finish his paperwork.

 

-oOo-

 

Mycroft fiddled with his tie for the tenth time in twenty minutes. He was nervous, even more so than his first date. Because that had been spontaneous; he’d _had_ to have dinner with Greg that night or the man would have given up. Now Greg was expecting him and Mycroft... he didn’t know what to do.

He’d left A at the office and suddenly wished she was there. At least then he’d get some advice. His BlackBerry vibrated and Mycroft pulled it out.

 

_Sir, stop fiddling with your tie. You look great, act like yourself, try not to stutter._

_A_

Mycroft smiled and left his tie alone as his car pulled up in front of Scotland Yard. He stepped out into the fresh afternoon air and looked around. Spotting Gregory in the smoker’s area, he approached casually, trying to act confident.

‘Gregory,’ he smiled and stopped before the man and one of his sergeants, Sally Donovan.

‘Hello Mycroft,’ Greg grinned and looked at his smoke. ‘Sorry, I only just lit it. I didn’t think you’d actually arrive on time.’

‘I always arrive on time.’

‘Silly me, then,’ he smiled.

Mycroft smiled back. ‘Not to worry, I’ll join you, if I may have one?’ Greg nodded and pulled out a cigarette for Mycroft. The taller man lit it and sighed in pleasure before fixing his piercing grey-blue eyes on Donovan. ‘I don’t believe we’ve met; Mycroft Holmes.’

Sally’s eyes went wide and she gaped openly. Gregory sighed.

‘Have I missed something?’ Mycroft asked.

‘She wasn’t aware you were... a Holmes,’ Greg said weakly.

‘Oh, I apologise,’ Mycroft said and swallowed, trying to ignore the hurt bubbling in the pit of his stomach. ‘I wasn’t aware my last name was a secret.’ Did Greg not want people to know he was dating a Holmes? Well, that was understandable, what with Sherlock running about like a lunatic and annoying everybody he knew. Mycroft really couldn’t blame the man.

Not that it didn’t hurt. He looked down and tried to concentrate on his cigarette but could feel Greg’s and Sally’s eyes on him. He looked up to see Greg sighing.

‘It wasn’t,’ Greg said quickly and smiled at Mycroft. The elder Holmes looked upset and he felt bad. He didn’t care if people knew he was with a Holmes; he didn’t care what people thought. Granted, most people at Scotland Yard hated Sherlock with a passion (and really, who could blame them?) but Greg didn’t care if they hated Mycroft either. It was none of their business who he dated.

And he didn’t want Mycroft thinking he was ashamed or trying to keep him a secret. Greg didn’t care that he was a Holmes. Actually, he loved it. Because nobody was as interesting as a Holmes, especially the elder one.

‘I swear, it wasn’t a secret,’ Greg said. ‘I don’t care who knows.’

Mycroft raised an eyebrow and Greg frowned.

‘Right, alright,’ he said and walked a bit away from him. He took a drag of his cigarette to calm himself and turned to face all the smokers. ‘You lot, listen up. This man here is Mycroft Holmes. Yes, he is Sherlock Holmes’ older brother. Some of you may know Sherlock better as ‘the Freak’ but call him that in front of me and I’ll smack you, got it? So I’m dating Mycroft _Holmes_ and if anyone’s got a problem with it, I don’t bloody care. Cheers and goodnight.’

There was a lot of staring a few, ‘You tell ’em!’ from people who really didn’t mind Sherlock or his sudden older brother.

Mycroft blushed furiously as Greg walked back to him and gave him a quick kiss. ‘Happy?’

‘Erm... a little embarrassed, but yes, quite happy.’

Greg smiled. ‘Good.’

They finished their smokes, smiling at each other, and ignored Sally who was still staring open mouthed. Finally Mycroft stamped his out and Greg asked, ‘Dinner?’

‘Yes,’ Mycroft smiled and held out his arm. Greg threaded his through it and allowed the elder Holmes to pull him to his car.

 

-oOo-

 

The restaurant wasn’t too fancy and Greg felt somewhat at ease as he sat across from Mycroft. He smiled as the younger man ordered wine and they flipped open their menus.

‘What are you having?’ Mycroft asked.

‘Steak, I think,’ Greg said. ‘I haven’t had a good meal in a week.’

Mycroft smiled warmly. ‘You should take better care of yourself.’

Greg rolled his eyes and asked, ‘What about you?’

‘Erm... salad, I think.’

‘A salad? That’s it?’

Mycroft shifted uncomfortably. ‘Yes. Perhaps with chicken, no dressing.’

The DI put his menu down carefully. ‘Mycroft?’

‘Yes?’

‘Why only a salad? Did you have a big lunch or something?’ For some reason his cop radar was tingling. Mycroft was hiding _something._

‘I’m just not very hungry and I’m on a diet,’ Mycroft said pleasantly.

Greg couldn’t tell if he was lying or not. He was a good cop and could usually spot a liar but Mycroft was a professional politician; therefore a professional liar.

‘Why are you on a diet? You look very fit to me.’

Mycroft blushed and said, ‘That is because I am on a diet.’

Greg eyed him once more before going back to his menu. He saw Mycroft physically relax but couldn’t understand why.

 

-oOo-

 

It was pushed from his mind when their food arrived. They ate in comfort, chatting softly and eyeing each other every second. They sipped their wine and grew more and more familiar with each other, less and less awkward. By the end of the night it was as though they’d known each other all their lives.

‘I had fun,’ Mycroft said softly as he pulled Greg from his car. They were in front of the DI’s flat and Greg turned to face him.

‘Hmm, me too.’

‘And a bit too much wine,’ Mycroft smiled.

‘Yeah, that too.’ Greg moved forward and pressed his lips against the taller man’s. Mycroft flushed. He didn’t like public displays of affection but it was dark and Greg tasted very, very good. He was soon kissing back and practically moaning. He’d missed this feeling; Greg’s soft, wet lips, his warm body pressed against Mycroft’s. Greg’s hands slid down to grip his hips and Mycroft smiled. It was... it was perfect.

'Mm, I like your lips,' Greg murmured.

Mycroft chuckled against him. ‘Well, the little sounds you’re making would suggest that, wouldn’t it?’

‘I suppose so.’ Greg laughed and leaned up to kiss Mycroft again. They only broke apart for air.

‘I don’t usually like affection in public.’

‘Oh,’ Greg said, pulling away. ‘I’m sorry, do you wanna stop?’

Mycroft smiled and drew him in again, pressing his lips softly and quickly against Greg’s. ‘It’s dark and... no, I don’t want to stop.’

Greg chuckled. ‘I’m a fantastic kisser.’

‘I won’t argue with that.’

They started kissing again, just enjoying the taste and feelings and everything. When they paused for breath Greg looked up at the taller man. ‘Would you... like to come up?’

Mycroft swallowed and shook his head. While he badly didn’t want to leave the older man’s side, he still didn’t know what he was doing. And he wasn’t ready to put himself in a position where sex might be an actual option. He didn’t want to upset Gregory and didn’t want to say no but... he couldn’t, not yet.

Greg frowned but said, ‘Alright.’

‘Gregory, I want a serious relationship,’ Mycroft said suddenly.

The DI blinked. ‘Er... huh?’

‘I want to date you exclusively,’ Mycroft said firmly and wound his fingers through Greg’s. ‘I want to... I want to have dates as often as possible and talk to you on the phone or through texts. I want... I want...’ he swallowed, unable to get it out.

Greg smiled and raised Mycroft’s hands to kiss them. ‘Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?’

The younger man looked at him. ‘Aren’t we a little old to call each other boyfriends?’ he said.

Greg continued to smile. ‘Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?’ he repeated.

Mycroft hesitated before nodding. ‘I want... I want to be your boyfriend. I want a serious relationship.’

Greg grinned and kissed him hotly, passionately. Mycroft moaned in the back of his throat and his eyes went wide when the warm and tasty lips were pulled away from his. ‘I’d very much like to be your boyfriend, Mycroft.’

‘Really?’

‘Really.’

Mycroft grinned and kissed Greg again. They wrapped their arms around each other and Mycroft couldn’t care less that they were in public. All that mattered was Gregory and his lips.

‘Probably inappropriate,’ Greg finally muttered. ‘Two grown men making out in the street.’

Mycroft chuckled. ‘I’ve never done anything like this so forgive me.’

The other man pulled back and raised an eyebrow. ‘What?’

‘I’ve...’ Mycroft swallowed. ‘I’ve never really dated before.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Yes. My mother doesn’t know that I... that I like men and as such has always fixed me up with women. My dates to this day have consisted of very, very posh family dinners while listening to both sets of parents prattle on about our traits.’

He decided to leave out the fact that he’d never dated a man... or had sex... with anyone. No need to tell that to Gregory on their second date.

‘God,’ Greg giggled and covered his mouth. ‘Sorry, I’m sorry, but that’s funny.’

‘Not funny; torture.’

‘Funny torture,’ Greg grinned and Mycroft raised an eyebrow but was smiling. ‘Sorry, not funny. Nope.’ He pressed his lips together but couldn’t help grinning.

‘You are evil, Gregory.’

‘I try.’ He sighed and leaned against Mycroft. ‘My poor boyfriend–’ both grinned at the term, ‘– stuck with a bunch of posh women when what he really wants is a rough man, like maybe a DI...’

‘Yes, please feel sorry for me,’ Mycroft said and Greg chuckled.

‘How can I make you feel better?’

‘Hmm,’ Mycroft murmured and Greg looked up at him. ‘Kiss me?’

The police officer smiled. ‘With pleasure.’

They kissed again, starting out very softly and slowly moving into more heated territory. And then Mycroft was pulling away again and Greg sighed.

‘I’m sorry, but I have a meeting in the morning.’

‘Sure you do,’ Greg said, ‘just trying to stop yourself from jumping me.’

Mycroft laughed softly. ‘Tell yourself what you wish, Gregory. But I really do have to go.’

Greg followed him back to his car, kissing him softly and gripping his hips. They bumped into the door and Greg pushed his crotch into Mycroft’s. The younger man gasped at the sudden friction and a shot of pleasure speared through his body. He’d never... he’d never felt like _that_ before.

And while it was great, it was truly confusing and Mycroft pulled away.

‘I’m sorry,’ Greg said, ‘was that too fast?’

‘N-no, not at all,’ Mycroft said tried to clear the embarrassment from his face. ‘I have to go, Gregory.’

‘Right,’ Greg said. ‘I’m sorry, Mycroft, I shouldn’t have–’

Mycroft silenced him with a kiss. ‘It’s truly alright, Gregory. I have to go, I don’t want to, but I do. Please forgive me.’

‘Only if you forgive me.’

With a small smile, the politician said, ‘Of course.’

‘Then I say, ‘of course’, too.’

Mycroft rolled his eyes and kissed Greg quickly. ‘Goodnight, Gregory. I will call you as soon as I can.’

Greg grinned at him. ‘’Night, Mycroft.’

And he watched as his boyfriend– BOYFRIEND!– climbed into his car and was driven away.

 

-oOo-

 

Their third date went better. Not that the first date had been bad, but the two had been awkward both at the beginning and end. Mycroft had... he had thought deeply about why he felt so confused when Greg had pushed against him. He had finally settled on it being nerves; he had never had sex before and Gregory doing that... he just wasn’t used to it, didn’t know what to do. But he was sure that, when the time came, Gregory would be understanding.

They sat in another nice restaurant and Mycroft sipped his fourth wine while playing with his salad. Greg was a bit worried now. The man was very thin, almost as thin as his brother, and he barely ever ate. He drank a lot, though, Greg had noted. He just wasn’t sure if either of these things were problems. This was only their third date and they hadn’t spent a _lot_ of time together. Maybe Mycroft was just nervous.

The couple ended the night by once again making out in front of Greg’s flat. He tentatively pushed his hips into Mycroft’s and the man responded by thrusting his own back. Greg grinned, feeling he was getting somewhere. And then Mycroft was pulling away and bidding him goodnight.

 

-oOo-

 

Greg smiled as Mycroft appeared in his doorway. ‘Hi.’

‘Hello,’ Mycroft smiled. Greg walked across his office and hugged his boyfriend, kissing him softly. ‘Mm.’

‘I knew you loved my lips.’

‘I really do.’

Greg chuckled. ‘To what do I owe the honour?’

‘The honour is all mine,’ Mycroft smiled. ‘Dinner, tonight.’

‘Are you free?’

‘I’ll make myself free.’

Greg frowned. ‘Mycroft, you know what can happen. We’ve had to cancel our last two dates.’

‘I know,’ Mycroft sighed. ‘And I’m sorry. Why do you put up with me?’

‘You look devilishly handsome in a suit.’

Mycroft smiled. ‘Please, Gregory, dinner tonight?’

‘Mm... okay, I _guess_. I’ll see if I’m free, I don’t really know, I might be bus–’

Mycroft silenced him with a kiss and Greg chuckled into it. He loved how quickly they’d fallen into each other’s lives. How they just... fit.

‘Dinner sounds great,’ he smiled.

Mycroft kissed him softly. ‘Excellent.’

 

-oOo-

 

The first time Mycroft said yes when Gregory invited him up, the DI nearly had a heart attack. Mycroft always declined, despite the fact they’d been dating a month. And suddenly he said yes and was walking into Greg’s flat.

Greg swallowed at the state of his place. He barely ever had people over so there was no reason to ever clean. It wasn’t too messy; clothes on the couch, beer bottles stacked on the coffee table, magazines and files all over the place...

‘Sorry,’ Greg mumbled and tried to clean up. ‘Didn’t think you’d say yes.’

He grabbed some bottles and dumped them in the trash before pulling a few files together. Suddenly strong hands wrapped around his wrists and turned him around.

‘Gregory.’

‘Yes?’

‘Don’t clean up.’

‘Why?’

‘You don’t have to, not for me.’

Greg didn’t look him in the eye. He didn’t... he didn’t want to feel like a slob or a failure or whatever in front of Mycroft.

Mycroft pulled Greg forward to kiss him. ‘It’s okay. You’re you and I... I like that. That’s why I’m with you.’

‘So you like me being a slob?’

Mycroft smiled. ‘It looks good on you.’ Greg laughed. ‘Now let’s sit down and watch television.’

Greg allowed his boyfriend to lead him to his couch. They sat down and Greg wrapped himself around Mycroft, sighing in content. He nuzzled into Mycroft’s shoulder and smiled.

 

-oOo-

 

Their next few dates went well, with only a few cancellations from both parties. Both were fast falling past ‘infatuation’ phase to ‘really liking you’ phase and finally to ‘I love you’ phase. They weren’t completely in love with each other yet. But they were fast approaching it. And neither wanted to stop.

Mycroft had never felt so comfortable with someone in his entire life. It was like he didn’t have to pretend with Gregory; he didn’t have to be the polite politician, the overprotective brother, the charming mystery man. He was just him; Mycroft. And Greg liked him.

Greg had never felt this way about anyone. He’d been in love before but with Mycroft... something was different. He completed Greg in a way that the DI had never felt before.

All that was missing was sex.

Mycroft wasn’t stupid. He knew their relationship would lead to sexual intercourse. He just didn’t know how to discuss it with Gregory. It was clear the DI was experienced with men but Mycroft... well, Mycroft wasn’t. He didn’t want to tell Greg he was a virgin and have Greg laugh at him or leave because he couldn’t handle being with a forty-four year-old man who’d never had sex.

Mycroft couldn’t risk that. He didn’t want Greg to go. So each time the subject of sex came up (in lingering kisses and looks, in hands that strayed too far below the belt), Mycroft changed the subject.

Greg was growing slightly frustrated. He wasn’t going to force the younger man to have sex but... they’d been dating a month, surely Mycroft wanted to progress forward?

Greg decided the time was right when Mycroft invited him back to his own flat after dinner. Mycroft was feeling comfortable enough to have the DI in his flat so Greg bought condoms and lube and hoped that he’d get lucky even if it was just a blow job.

 

-oOo-

 

Greg stepped into Mycroft’s well-furnished home and whistled. It was all wood; walls, floorboards, furniture. It all fit together perfectly. There was an expensive sound system and TV that Greg was sure Mycroft didn’t know how to use, bookcases against every wall, tables in corners with paper and paperweights and laptops. The kitchen looked empty and barely used, as did most of the place really.

‘I don’t spend a lot of time here,’ Mycroft admitted as he took Greg’s jacket.

‘It’s nice,’ Greg said. ‘Bit sterile.’

Mycroft smiled.  ‘Um... thank you?’

Greg chuckled. ‘Sorry, that was rude, wasn’t it?’ He turned to hug his boyfriend and kiss him softly, loving how easily they’d fallen into being a couple. Mycroft had come over to his place a few times and fit nicely on Greg’s crouch, allowing the older man to curl around him. No sex yet, though, and Greg was hoping that would change.

‘Wine?’ Mycroft asked.

‘Please,’ Greg smiled.

Mycroft pulled a bottle from his collection and filled two glasses. Greg noted as they drank that Mycroft’s glass was twice as full as his own. He frowned slightly but didn’t say anything; too early in the relationship.

They chatted softly for about an hour before Greg was kissing Mycroft and not in the way they normally did. There was need in his lips, his tongue, the way he grabbed hold of Mycroft. Mycroft was caught up in the heat and passion and before he knew it he was sitting on his bed with Greg standing before him.

‘Gregory,’ he said, trying to push the DI away. But Greg had got to his knees and was unbuckling Mycroft’s belt. Mycroft was half terrified, half panting with lust. He wanted this so badly– he wanted Gregory.

But he couldn’t. No... he wasn’t ready, not for this. He couldn’t do this now, no.

‘I’ve... never...’ Mycroft tried.

‘Oh,’ Greg said and suddenly it made sense why Mycroft was scared and confused, and why he hadn’t given in to Greg’s advances. ‘Penetrating a guy is no different really to having sex with a woman. Not that I really know but it can’t be that different. You can top me, it’s alright.’

Mycroft bit his lip and blushed. Greg fiddled with Mycroft’s belt and the younger man squirmed, growing more and more uncomfortable. Greg continued, thinking Mycroft was just nervous about being with a man. If he wasn’t ready for sex Greg would just touch him. Surely that would be alright. But soon it spiralled completely out of control.

‘Mycroft, relax. We don’t have to have sex,’ Greg said. ‘How about a hand job? It’s a lot better than masturbating.’

Mycroft turned red, not comfortable with talking about his... habits with anyone. ‘Gregory, I don’t think–’

Mycroft was cut off as Greg palmed his crotch. Greg smiled at him. He knew it was weird the first time having a guy do these things to you. But surely it couldn’t be _that_ different to a woman doing it.

‘Gregory... Gregory... Greg, no!’

Mycroft pushed Greg back roughly and he stumbled. ‘Mycroft, what?’ He hadn’t even _touched_ anything.

The politician looked completely unnerved and terrified. He jumped to his feet, doing up his pants. He left the room quickly and stumbled into the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of wine and wrapping his lips around the neck. He drank deeply and Greg walked in, staring at him.

‘Mycroft, what’s wrong?’

The elder Holmes ignored him and went as far as to pull away and wince when Greg tried to touch him.

‘Mycroft, please, I don’t understand,’ Greg said. His face was flushed, his lips swollen from kissing Mycroft. But his arousal was completely fading at the look on his boyfriend’s face. ‘Mycroft–’

‘Didn’t even ask!’ Mycroft spat and drank more wine. He would become drunk soon if Greg didn’t stop him. ‘Didn’t even... just...’ he swallowed and drank more wine.

‘Go easy there,’ Greg said and reached for the bottle.

Again Mycroft pulled back and glared at Greg. ‘Don’t tell me what to do!’

Greg frowned, completely fucking confused. Mycroft was clearly terrified, scared of Greg, of something, and well on his way to alcohol poisoning if he didn’t stop with the wine.

‘Please explain this to me, Mycroft, I’m not a mind-reader; I’m not a Holmes,’ he sighed. ‘Please put the wine down, Mycroft.’

Mycroft finally looked at him and slowly, very slowly, placed the quarter drunk wine bottle on the counter. Greg leaned forward and grabbed it, pulling it away from Mycroft.

‘Okay, we’ve got that settled,’ the DI said. Silence followed with Mycroft panting and blinking and Greg looking at him. ‘Mycroft, what’s wrong?’

Mycroft just shook his head and folded his arms; defensive, protecting himself from... from what?

‘Mycroft,’ Greg groaned.

‘Didn’t... ask...’ Mycroft managed.

‘About what?’ Greg asked. ‘Look, you haven’t been with a guy before, I get that. We’ve been dating over a month and I just thought... look, we can go slower, okay? It’s alright. I just thought you might like... you know, a blow job or something. Really it’s not that different to a woman doing it.’

Mycroft shook his head and took a step back. ‘No, that’s not... not what this is about... not...’ he sighed and rubbed his eyes, still looking fidgety. He looked so out of control; not something Greg liked on the older Holmes. Mycroft was always in control of everything. To see him like this...

‘Mycroft, what is it?’ Greg asked. ‘I care about you, just tell me; we can work through this, I promise.’

Mycroft looked up at him again and he was still terrified and... ashamed? He swallowed and said, slowly, ‘I’ve never had sex...’

‘With a guy, I know,’ Greg said.

But Mycroft continued, ‘... with anyone.’

Greg’s eyes went wide as everything snapped into place quickly. ‘You’re a virgin?’

Mycroft nodded and swallowed. He eyed the bottle of wine but Greg grabbed it. Suddenly it made sense; Mycroft’s terror, his anger that Greg had basically forced himself upon the politician... all of it.

 _Shit. Fuck, shit, fucking shit bollocks_. Greg had royally screwed this up.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Embarrassing,’ Mycroft muttered.

‘No it’s not,’ Greg sighed. He moved closer to Mycroft and the official stepped back again. ‘Mycroft, please, I understand. What I did...’ he swallowed, ‘... I’m so sorry, I had no idea. I never would have done that if you’d told me.’

‘S’alright,’ Mycroft mumbled.

‘No it’s not,’ Greg said and moved closer. This time Mycroft didn’t pull away. ‘Mycroft, I acted like a complete fuck whit in there. If you’d told me I never would have... Christ, I’m really sorry. I never meant for something like that to happen.’

Mycroft didn’t say anything.

‘Mycroft, I’m really sorry,’ his boyfriend repeated. ‘It must have... Jesus, that must have scared you.’

Slowly, the politician nodded.

‘I’m sorry,’ Greg said again. ‘If I’d known... look, I moved too fast, I admit that. And I acted like a dickhead and scared you. If you’d told me, I never would have done that; please believe me.’

Mycroft raised his head to look Greg in the eye.

‘You... you do believe me, don’t you?’ he asked, softly.

The politician was silent for a few minutes and his eyes darted to the wine bottle before settling on Greg.

‘Yes, I believe you. I... I trust you.’

‘I’m glad,’ Greg said and moved closer. He was now within touching distance but didn’t dare try and lay a finger on Mycroft. The man was still jumpy, tense, staring at Greg. ‘I’m sorry, Mycroft, and I’ll never do it again, not even a blow job until you’re a hundred percent ready, alright?’

Mycroft nodded.

‘So...’ Greg said slowly. ‘You’ve never, um... not even a hand job?’

Mycroft shook his head slowly. ‘I’ve never felt... comfortable enough.’

‘Okay, that’s okay,’ Greg said. ‘You... you _do_ masturbate, right?’ Mycroft swallowed and Greg said, ‘It’s nothing to be ashamed about, everybody does it.’

‘I... I do...’ Mycroft mumbled.

‘Right,' Greg nodded. Good, so at least Mycroft was interested in sex; Greg could work with that. 'Well that’s okay, Mycroft. Really. Um, do you think it would be okay if I hugged you?’

He nodded slowly.

Greg raised his arms tentatively and wrapped them around Mycroft. Finally Mycroft relaxed and melted into his boyfriend’s hug.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I know,’ Mycroft murmured.

‘Please forgive me.’

‘I... I do.’

‘Thank you.’

They stayed hugging each other for a few minutes before Greg pulled back.

‘Do you want me to leave?’

Mycroft was silent for a few seconds before saying, ‘I would like you to stay... please?’

‘If that’s what you want,’ Greg said. ‘I can sleep on the couch.’

Mycroft shook his head, ‘Please stay in my bed.’

‘Are you sure?’ Mycroft nodded. ‘Okay, if that’s what you want. I promise I won’t do anything.’

They went back into Mycroft’s bedroom and Greg grabbed the condoms and lube he’d dropped on the bed. Mycroft watched as he shoved them deeply into the top draw of Mycroft’s dresser.

‘Later, when you feel ready,’ Greg told him. ‘I promise.’

‘Thank you,’ Mycroft said. They got changed, Greg borrowing a pair of Mycroft’s pyjamas. They climbed into bed and Greg kept himself to the very edge of his side until Mycroft held out his arms. With a smile, Greg shifted over and pushed himself into Mycroft’s warmth as the politician hugged him tightly.

‘Mycroft, I’m really, really sorry. I’ll never do that again.’

‘Not... I’d rather you don’t say _never_ again,’ Mycroft mumbled against the top of his head.

Greg smiled. Mycroft was so controlling, so calm, so strong in every aspect of his life... every aspect except sex. With sex and relationships, Greg was the leader. And he’d lead Mycroft through it perfectly from now on.

‘Okay. Just tell me when, Mycroft. It’s completely up to you.’

‘Thank you,’ his younger boyfriend mumbled.

‘You’re welcome.’

 


End file.
